Taking a deep breath, he studied Brendon, noticing his brother was calm and collected, his hands steady as he poured coffee grounds into a filter.
Was he whistling?
Holy shit.
“You were out all night,” Braydon informed him.
“Yes, Mother, I was.”
“Where the hell were you?”
“Out. All night,” Brendon said, peering at him over his shoulder, the dark slash of his eyebrows reflecting his irritation with the interrogation. But then the lines etched across Brendon’s forehead softened and …
Was that a damn smile on Brendon’s face?
Good Lord. It was.
“What the hell’s goin’ on?” Braydon asked, feeling as though he was in a bad episode of The Twilight Zone.
“Nothin’,” Brendon replied as though he was simply shooting the shit with a friend. “What the hell’s goin’ on with you?”
Braydon laughed, he couldn’t help it, but the sound was strained. He didn’t recognize this man standing just a few feet away from him.
“Did you hook up with some chick last night?” Braydon inquired, wanting the damn mystery solved.
“No,” Brendon said assuredly. But he didn’t say anything more as he stared at the coffeepot, which was hissing and beginning to brew, and then moved to fill Scrap’s bowl with dog food.
Braydon gave his brother a break from the multitude of questions for a moment. He went to the refrigerator, retrieved the milk, and set it on the counter. He grabbed a banana from the hook, peeled it. Ate it. Still nothing.
Finally, when Brendon had a cup of coffee in his hand and had returned the milk jug to the fridge, he turned and leaned against the counter, casually crossing his ankles as he stared back at Braydon.
“So?” Braydon asked, still waiting for the damn answer.
“So what?” Brendon smirked.
“What’s with all the damn smilin’?”
“It’s a crime to smile now? I thought that’s what you’ve wanted me to do for the last eight months or so. No?”
“Yes. Damn it. But I want to know what the hell you’re smilin’ about.”
Brendon took a sip of his coffee, then met Braydon’s stare. “I stayed at Cheyenne’s last night. And before you go and get your underwear in a fucking knot, it’s a good thing. Don’t go askin’ a million questions, ’cause I ain’t gonna share the details. Just know that I’m in a good place right now.”
Braydon knew his mouth was hanging open, his brain still trying to process what his brother was telling him. He’d stayed with Cheyenne. And things were good.
He fucking stayed with Cheyenne. “Brendon—”
“Nuh-uh. No warnings from the peanut gallery, Bray. I’m a grown man, Cheyenne’s a grown woman. Let it be, will ya?”
“Where’s Scrap?”
“He’s still at Cheyenne’s. The little traitor wanted to stay there,” Brendon informed him with another shit-eating grin.
“Why are you here?” Braydon asked cautiously.
“Well, one, I live here. And two, to give her a little space. Ain’t that how it works? I’m not gonna overstay my welcome, even if my two-timin’ dog does.”
“So y’all are … ?”
“Nope, I told you no questions. None. Don’t overthink this, Bray. Let it be.”
Braydon wasn’t sure he knew how to let it be. Seriously, he’d been worried about Brendon for too damn long now and his twin had the gall to tell him to let it be? What the fuck?
Granted, the longer Braydon looked at his twin, the more he realized how content he looked. Gone was that crease on his forehead, the one that spoke of anger and frustration. And now there was a fucking smirk on Brendon’s damn lips.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower. I’ve got a date.” Brendon didn’t wait for Braydon to respond, merely turned and headed toward his bedroom.
Of course Braydon found himself following close behind. “A date? With Cheyenne?”
When Brendon reached his bedroom door, he turned, and Braydon damn near plowed into him. He was met with a grin. “I told you, no questions.” With that, Brendon shut the door in his face.
Braydon turned around, scrubbing his hands down his jaw as he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
Brendon stayed with Cheyenne.
Brendon and Cheyenne.
Son of a bitch.
Brendon and Cheyenne!
Dropping onto the sofa, Braydon grabbed his cell phone from the end table. He pulled up Jessie’s number and hit the green Talk button. When she answered with a sweet, soft hello, he responded in a rush. “Somethin’s happened to Brendon. I don’t know what the fuck is goin’ on.”